Whispers
by HermioneGinny Shipper
Summary: A late night discussion by the fire leaves Hermione knowing that she's not in love with the wrong person after all. f/f
1. Chapter One

WHISPERS (3/3/03)  
  
Summary: An late night discussion by the fire leaves Hermione knowing that she's not in love with the wrong person after all.  
  
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and thus do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. I'm also sorry if f/f slash offends you, but I think it's beautiful.  
  
Dedications: This is dedicated to my girlfriend, Nicole.   
  
* * *  
  
I curl my knees in to my chest, wrapping my arms tightly around them. I'm sitting at the window of my dorm room, and it's late. I shouldn't be up.  
  
But I am.  
  
The other fifth year Gryffindors are fast asleep; Parvati's even snoring. Lavender and Sally-Anne have the scarlet curtains pulled tightly shut around their four poster beds. It always amuses me to see people aching for this kind of bedroom privacy. It's impossible to get any such thing within these walls. I've never been in a place with such a rampant gossip mill.  
  
All the other girls are best friends with each other. They whisper and giggle and finish each other's sentences without batting an eye. They stay up late at night talking, playing truth or dare, giggling over the cutest boys in school.  
  
My best friends are asleep elsewhere in the tower. One's a redhead, and the other has the most unmanagable jet-black locks I've ever seen. The other girls spend hours doing each other's make-up and nails and hair. The other day, the boys played Quidditch for two hours in the middle of a rainstorm. Does pushing some soggy hair from Harry's forehead count?  
  
I sigh.  
  
I'm not like them, and I know I'm not. Sometimes, when I'm curled up with my own bed curtains drawn tightly around me and a large book in my hands, I almost want to join their circle and listen to their gossip. I almost left my safe confines the other day. I decided not to at the last minute. I had to remind myself that I'm not like them.  
  
I finished the book within the hour and went down the the common room. I watched Harry and Ron play chess, and then I watched their Quidditch practice. Ron's the third Chaser this year, and he's rather good. I was going to watch their practice yesterday but was ambushed by a swarm of girls with round brushes as I tried to leave Gryffindor.  
  
Two hours and several chunks of missing hair later, I was reminded why I prefer the company of my guys to the girls of my house and year.  
  
They really aren't as bad as I make them out to bed, and I must admit that my hair did look lovely for a few hours. (Peeves threw some waterballons at dinner. Any kind of water or humidity...) They're rather predictible, though, and that's what always gets to me about them. They always ask the same questions, and they continue to ask me whether it's Harry or Ron I'm snogging.  
  
Neither.  
  
And I wouldn't want to be.  
  
Don't get me wrong. Harry and Ron are wonderful, both of them simply wonderful, but I don't like them. Not like that I don't. Harry is as brave as Ron is loyal, and I love them both for it, dearly. Sometimes I almost wish I liked one of them like that because I know Ron's begun to fancy me.  
  
Fancy me?  
  
He shouldn't want to.  
  
With as much time as the three of us spend together, it's amazing that none of us fell for each other sooner. It's almost as if I should have given my heart to one of them by now, but I have no desire to. I can't think of a single boy that I'd be willing to give my affections to. I can't even think of a single boy that I think is cute!  
  
That's my problem right there.  
  
I suck in my breath until it hurts. That's why I'm awake right now in the first place. It's rather horrible to be fifteen and so confronted with the feelings you've known you've had for ages. It's simply not fair to be like me.  
  
I do a pretty good job of hiding it, don't I?  
  
Hermione Granger, model student. Hermione Granger, best friend of Harry Potter. Hermione Granger, bestowed with Ronald Weasley's affections. Hermione Granger, Viktor Krum's heart's desire. I'm all of those things, and then I'm more, and there's a side of me they'll never see. What would they think if they did see it?  
  
I start sucking my breath in again, but I am not careful enough. An angry head pokes through angry curtains, an angry voice cuts through an angry night.  
  
"Hermione! If you're going to stay up to sniffle, do it down in the common room!" hisses Sally-Anne. "Some of us are trying to sleep!"  
  
A blonde head disappears behind scarlet velvet. I think that it is a rather striking contrast as I slowly pad across the floor. I end up there almost every night. It's warmer in the common room, anyway. The fire there always makes things so very cozy, and it's a refreshing place to be alone.   
  
But I am not alone.  
  
Ginny Weasley is sitting in one of the overstuffed chairs. She is wearing a long white night gown and a silky bathroom. Her flaming red hair is loose and flowing against her shoulders. I give her a slight smile. I know Harry fancies her, and I think she still likes him.  
  
It is easy to see what he sees.  
  
"Are you having trouble sleeping, Ginny?" I ask politely. Surprisingly, she shakes her head.  
  
"Not exactly," she says. "Are you?"  
  
I smile ruefully. "I'm a bit of an insomniac, you know." It's not far from the truth.  
  
"I remember that from this summer," says Ginny, and she curls her legs up under her body as I sit down next to her. Harry and I spent most of the summer at the Weasleys, and the four of us became inseperable. Gone was Ginny's shyness around Harry.  
  
I wonder if her affection for him is gone too, and I wish.  
  
"What's keeping you from sleeping?" asks Ginny. I am startled, lost in my own thoughts.  
  
"The usual," I say, and then I lie. "Worries about homework and O.W.L.s and..."  
  
I trail off as Ginny laughs.  
  
"Hermione!" she exclaims. "O.W.L.s aren't until the end of the year! It's what, November?"  
  
"It's only six months!" I insist stubbornly, and she just laughs. She has a very sweet, very real laugh.  
  
"Only you," giggles Ginny.  
  
No, I think. Only you.  
  
It's my turn to speak. I have to. "So why are you down here?"  
  
"I thought that you'd come down here," says Ginny knowingly, and I am surprished. "Sally-Anne told me the other day that you're up every single night. She figured that, as your best female friend, I would want to know. I figured that you might want to talk."  
  
"Talk." I say the word numbly. It is awkward on my tongue. "That can't be the only reason. Not to undermind your qualities as a friend, but your sleep is very important to you."  
  
"It is," says Ginny. Now, she is the one staring off into space. "I've had a lot on my mind, lately."  
  
I laugh. I think I know what she is talking about. Justin Finch-Fletchy asked her out the other day. Surprisingly, she turned him down, and oh, how the rumours have circulated.  
  
She's saving herself for Harry, they say.  
  
"Is this about Justin?" I say it almost too knowingly.  
  
"If only," says Ginny, and she scoffs. She does not look me in the eye, and I almost panic.  
  
Then, I remind myself that I'm not supposed to care like that.  
  
Finally, she lifts her head. Her beautiful red hair falls forward, and she has to shove it out of her face. "If you must know," she says, "there's somone else."  
  
I know that. Don't all the girls know that?  
  
"Harry," I say, knowingly again.  
  
"Not Harry," says Ginny, and I know my mouth drops open. Her eyes usually twinkle, but they are a stormy blue ocean as they lock with mine. "There's someone else."  
  
"Who?" I am curious. It hurts to ask, but I'm more pained not knowing.  
  
Ginny looks away again. "No one."  
  
"Come on, Ginny. Who is he?" I smile slightly as I run through the list of Hogwarts's eligible bachelours, and I giggle slightly as I propose my next idea. "It's Draco Malfoy, isn't it? Afraid Ron will do you in for it?"  
  
"Very funny Hermione," says Ginny. She gazes out into the fire now.  
  
"I really would like to know," I say. I'm honest but pained. "Do I know them?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"Is it a fourth year?"  
  
"No."  
  
"Fifth, then?"  
  
"Yes."  
  
"A Gryffindor?"  
  
"Do you think I would go for anyone else?"  
  
Her smile does not quite reach her eyes.  
  
"A yes, then," I say, and I try to sound excited with a girlish giddish. "Dean? Seamus? Neville?"  
  
"No. No. And NO!"  
  
"But you said it wasn't Harry!" I exclaim. Ginny will not look at me. I can see her blue eyes filling with tears.  
  
"It's not."  
  
And I know.  
  
"It's not a he," I say slowly. My heart is pounding against my ribcage. She turns to me, and she is so close.  
  
A few centimeters away, that's all.  
  
"No," says Ginny miserably. "It's not a he, and I'm a horrible person."  
  
"You are not a horrible person," I say, and I scold myself. Hadn't I just been saying that to myself a few minutes earlier? "There's nothing long with liking girls, Ginny."  
  
"There is if you are a girl!" she breaks down into sobs, and I want to through my arms around her.  
  
"No," I say.  
  
We're kissing.  
  
As my arms wrap around Ginny's trembling body, I remind myself that this is Ginny Weasley, my best female friend. My mind is still working properly, at least, but my heart is in control. This is what I've wanted for longer than I can remember. Her tongue brushes against my lips, softly, and the kiss changes. Her tongue touches mind hesitantly. I haven't much experience with kissing, but this kiss is perfect. It is sweet and wonderful and everything a kiss should be.  
  
I know I should feel guilty when we break apart, but I don't. My arms stay around Ginny, holding her around her shoulders. She keeps me in her embrace, and I smile.  
  
"There's nothing wrong with liking girls," says Ginny, repeating what I said earlier. "Hermione? Does this make us lesbians?"  
  
"Does it matter?" I say, and my words sound startling to my own ears. A passionate hunger has taken over my body, and I want to taste Ginny again. We kiss again.  
  
It is less rushed this time. Even more perfect than the first. It's hard to kiss her from this angle; my stomach is squashed painfully across the arm of the chair. I can't bring myself to care, and my tongue caresses hers hungrily. We finally pull apart.  
  
"Mmm," Ginny mutters. I have never seen anything more perfect in my life. Her eyes are closed, and she looks rather peaceful. That gorgeous hair is hanging in her face. I loosen my grip around her, and she leaves her chair. The chairs are so oversized that there is plenty of room for both of us in mine.  
  
We would have made it work even if there hadn't been.  
  
This kiss is more intimate. Her leg, bare from right above the knee, presses against my own bare leg. Her arms encircle my waist, and my hands are buried in her hair. Her breasts are pressing against mine. I never want the moment to end, but it must. The two of us pull back, breathing heavily. I am in awe of Ginny. Pure awe.  
  
"Hermione," she breaths, and she is stroking my face. I have to remind myself to keep inhaling. "Did you feel this way about me before tonight?"  
  
"Yes," I say. "I've never felt strongly for boys. I've never really felt strongly for girls, either. I've always felt strongly for you."  
  
Ginny initiates this kiss. She is as fiery as her hair.  
  
"I think..." she mutters. She is still almost kissing me. Her lips are still touching mine at least, and the sensation she creates is most wonderful. "I think I like this."  
  
"It's wonderful," I agree. Her hand drops from my cheek and begins to stroke my thigh through the silk of my nightgown. My breath catches in my throat for the millionth time that night.  
  
We are kissing again, more hungrily than before. We are both ranveous. I cannot get enough of her. This sweet, hot passion fills every inch of my body as she presses against me. We are moving too much, and we fall off the chair.  
  
"Are you okay?" I question. I am lying on top of her, and she is giggling beneath me.  
  
"As long as you are," says Ginny, and she pulls my head down into another seething kiss. Parts of my body begin to awaken with sensations I did not know existed. I realize that Ginny is now stroking my inner thigh, and we break apart. "Hermione? May I continue to touch you?"  
  
"Please," I say, and I realize that my nightgown had gotten hitched up when we fell. She is stroking my bare skin, and she rolls me over gently. The light touch of her fingertips is a wonderful sensation. Then, she does something that surprises me. She pushes up the nightgown, and she lifts it over my arms and head. I shiver, left to lay on the floor of the Gryffindor common room wearing nothing but my underwear. I blush knowing as Ginny's gaze settles on my breasts. She touches them tentatively.  
  
"It's okay," I assure her, and she nods. Suddenly, her mouth is on me, and I have to bite my lip to keep from moaning in delight. The sensation of her tongue on my left nipple is almost more than I can handle, and I squirm happily beneath her. She gives each breast equal attention before kissing down my stomach. Her mouth hovers over the band of my panties, and I stop her.  
  
I want her to keep going.  
  
"No, Ginny," I say. "This isn't all about me."  
  
And I repeat her movements. I roll her over onto her back, and I untie her robe. It slips easily off her shoulders. Her night gown is the next thing to go. I am delighted by what I see. She is beautiful, pale skin with a light dusting of freckles. Like me, she does not sleep in a bra, and she is not wearing underwear either. My breath catches as I see the light patch of red hair in the area above her legs.  
  
I kiss her in the middle of the stomach, and I leave a perfect trail of moisture as I kiss my way to her chest. I take her nipple in my mouth, biting gently. She whimpers beneath me, and my hands entangle in her hair again. I wait until I hear her moan before starting on her other breast.  
  
Suddenly she pushes me away.  
  
"Hermione," she gasps. "You have to stop. I... I want..."  
  
She does not say it, but I know. My own underwear is slipped off my hips, and I rest my naked body against hers. I feel something between my legs, and I automatically part them for her hand. She is hesitant at first, merely running her finger around the area, and I decided to make my own move. I shift carefully so I am not resting my weight on her.  
  
My own hand is between her legs, giving her a gentle massage.  
  
I am, too, hesitant, but I am the first to do it. She gasps as I slide a single finger into her, pushing it into the knuckle and withdrawing it almost completely. I wiggle it a little, and I begin to rub.  
  
"Oh!" she gasps, and I feel a finger plunge into me. I have found her clitoris, and she has found mine. I want to lose myself in the pleasant sensations she is creating within me, but I cannot. I try to ignore them.  
  
This is her first time, and I want it to be special.  
  
"Another?" she asks, and I blink. I do not know what she is talking about at first, but then I nod. My walls tighten around her as she slids in a second finger. I do the same, and she lets out a long moan. I know that I should tell her to be quiet, but I do not.  
  
She strokes me gently, and I gasp for breath. I have never felt anything quite like this in my life. Something is building inside of me, and I think I know what it is. I lower my weight a little, and my breasts are squashed against hers.  
  
Ginny moans again. Her entire body is starting to shaken, and she suddenly kisses me. The flood hit me at that moment. I am quieter than her as my body has its first orgasm, but it's not because I enjoy it any less.  
  
Ginny, on the other hand, screams my name. I am reluctant to leave her warm, but I do anyway. I take her hand as she withdraws from me, and she breathes heavily as I suck each of her fingers clean.  
  
"We can't stay down here," I say at last. Her legs are tangled with mine, our sexes pushed together. It it a wonderful feeling, and the tingle that runs through my body makes me want to make love to her again.  
  
"No," agrees Ginny. We pull apart, quite reluctantly, and we stand there for a moment. I love her nakedness, and I hope she loves mine. We dress quickly and walk back into the dormitory hand-in-hand.  
  
"Goodnight, Hermione," whispers Ginny as she opens the door to the fourth year girls' room.  
  
She kisses me once more, and I go into my own room. I cannot wait for tomorrow. I'll hold her hand at breakfast and kiss her in front of the entire school. I don't care.  
  
There might be whispers, but I don't care. 


	2. Chapter Two

WHISPERS 2 (5/7/03)  
  
Summary: It feels right, but what if it isn't? That late night discussion might have given Hermione and Ginny answers, but it left them with even more questions.  
  
Disclaimer: I am not J.K. Rowling and thus do not own any of the Harry Potter characters. I'm also sorry if f/f slash offends you, but I think it's beautiful.  
  
Dedications: This is dedicated to my girlfriend, Nicole.  
  
* * *  
  
"Oh... OH!"  
  
I smile to myself, a secretive smile that she cannot see. My fingers dance at her sides, fluttering lightly across that wonderfully smooth skin. It is more brown than my own, but that doesn't take much at all. I kiss her neck gently again before my hands drop down, lower, to her hips. Last night was amazing. If she'll let me do what I want to do, this morning will be even better.  
  
But I think I already know that she won't let me.  
  
It's amazing that no one caught us last night as we made love for the first time in the common room. I still cannot believe that I managed to fall asleep afterwards when all I could think about was her lips and her hands and... oh, oh.  
  
Her taste.  
  
"Hermione," I mutter. I'm much too young for this, aren't I? Much too young to have someone else's naked body pressed against my own, much too young to have such sexual thoughts. But I've never felt so at ease in my life.  
  
We are in the shower.  
  
Together.  
  
Will wonders never cease? Yesterday, I cried myself to sleep because I was in love with the Wrong Person. I, a girl myself, was in love with another Girl. It was so very wrong of me indeed. Then, I woke up and happened upon that very girl, who was in love with me, too.  
  
And the feel of her hands between my legs, doing amazing things that I had never even dreamed of...  
  
Nothing had ever felt so right.  
  
"Ginny," she says. She speaks to me, warningly, but I'm not quite ready to stop. I pull her close, pressing her into me. I'm the one that's touching her, yet I think I'm as turned on as she is.  
  
"Ginny."  
  
I sigh, and I wrap my arms around her naked waist. I want to have my way with her, but she won't let me. She let me do it in the middle of the common room, the carpet rubbing violently against that smooth skin of hers, but she won't let me do it in the middle of shower protected with eighteen different privacy charms.  
  
"You," I say, "are the most beautiful thing I have ever seen."  
  
I was going to touch her so much more. It was one thing to explore that body with my finger tips; it was another to run my tongue across those perfect breasts. If Hermione would just let me, my mouth would have memorized every inch of her by nightfall.  
  
I let her go now.  
  
Hermione turns to me slowly, stepping back into the gentle stream of warm water. I do not have her warm body so close to me now, and I shiver. Still, that cold feeling does not last for long. My eyes trace the curves that I had been touching just seconds before.  
  
"You can't just come into the shower after me, Ginny," Hermione says. "What would people think?"  
  
I say nothing and take a step forward. My hands are at her waist again, but this time she is facing me. She does something that surprises me.  
  
"Ah," I say.  
  
It is all I can manage after that kind of a kiss.  
  
Hermione tries to look stern, angry with me even. Because she is staying, so very perfect and so very nude, this is hard for her.  
  
"Ginny, you can't just follow me into the shower," she says.  
  
"I wouldn't ususally," I say truthfully, "but it's half past five, Hermione. Not even six yet. It's a Saturday, or did you forget? We don't even eat until nine."  
  
"Why did you follow me?" she wants to know.  
  
I pull her closer, so close that our breasts are touching just so. Her arms finally wrap around my waist.  
  
She is even more amazing looking as water droplets roll off her body. I cannot answer her, not with words at least. My hands are moving of their own accord. One reachs between her legs to cup her most sensitive parts.  
  
"The things you do to me," she sighs.  
  
"And in only five minutes, too," I say slyly. I grin, almost wickedly.  
  
"Why did you follow me?" Hermione still wants to know.  
  
"I was listening," I say, "and waiting for someone to get up. I woke up not an hour ago from the most amazing dream."  
  
"Dream?" she says, like she doesn't know know I'm talking about. I look deeply into her eyes. She actually doesn't.  
  
"I was dreaming," I say, hoping to get this right, "of doing this to you."  
  
I slip a finger inside of her, and she gasps. I cut off the sound, kissing her perfect mouth and working her gently. This isn't actually what I was dreaming about.  
  
"We have at least an hour befoer another living soul wakes up," I say, and I stop what I am doing. "Can I, please? I'll make it fast."  
  
"Oh... OH!" I knew she was about to say no, so I chose that moment to touch her clitoris. Again.  
  
I am small, but Hermione is a bit smaller. She's older, but that doesn't really mean anything. I am caressing her so gently. I love giving her this pleasure, and it doesn't even matter so much if it is returned. I just want so badly to touch her.  
  
We are standing so close now that we are both under the narrow jet of water.  
  
"This," I say, breaking off our kiss and slowing my work between her legs, "isn't actually what I was dreaming about."  
  
"What?" Hermione says, confused.  
  
"Do you trust me?" I ask. She still looks confused, but she nods.  
  
I withdraw from her, gently, gently, and back her up, my hands light on her once more. These showers must have been made with this in mind. There is a bench thing of sorts in back, meant to hold one's bath items. It is sturdy, not hollow, and it holds Hermione just fines. I get down, down on my knees, and seperate her thighs so gently. She knows now, what I am going to do. She shivers when I'm not even touching her. I'm the one in the water now; she's the one in the air.  
  
I kiss her inner thigh.  
  
I kiss her there again, this time letting my tongue through my lips to brush against that perfect skin. I want to taste her, but I want this to be perfect.  
  
Another kiss.  
  
I haven't done this before.  
  
She knows that.  
  
But what if I mess up anyway?  
  
Another kiss.  
  
I want this to be perfect.  
  
She won't be mad at me if it isn't.  
  
Another kiss.  
  
"It's okay," she says, and I look up. Her breathing is irregular already, but she is looking at me intently.  
  
I touch my tongue to that swollen area, that forbidden area. I am waiting for her to tell me not to do this, to get away from her, but no admonishment comes.  
  
I realize that she wants this.  
  
And I realize that I want this just as much.  
  
Slowly, slowly.  
  
I enter her slowly, just as any respectable boy would on her first time.  
  
This is lovely.  
  
I shouldn't like this, but I do. It's wonderful, and her reaction is even better.  
  
Hermione is moaning now.  
  
I make slow circles around her clit with my tongue. I tempt her, going in and out of her with it. I brush against it so much. Her juices have begun to flow.  
  
"Ginny..."  
  
It's my name, but it doesn't sound like my name. If I wasn't doing what I was, I would have grinned. Hermione is so beautifully intoxicated with sex.  
  
"Hermione," I say teasingly, drawing back from her for not more than a second. It is enough to make her whimper.  
  
I plunge into her with my tongue.  
  
This is my final attack.  
  
I lick her like I would want to be licked. My tongue caresses her the way my finger did the night before. She is shaking now, shaking in her thighs. She is so close...  
  
...and she is over the edge. I continue to lick her as she trembles and moans and screams and screams and screams  
  
my name.  
  
Ginny Ginny Ginny Ginny Ginny  
  
She tastes sweet and wonderful. I did not get to taste her, not like this, last night. She shudders one last time.  
  
"Hermione," I say.  
  
"Oh."  
  
It is all she can manage, still. I stand, water dripping from my body. She is nearly dry, cold now. I wrap my arms around her in a tight hug. It is the gesture of friends, not of lovers.  
  
But that was what we were, first and foremost.  
  
"I want to..." she says, but I put a finger on her lips to silence her.  
  
"I want you to, too," I say, but I hold her and keep her from moving. "I want you to do it tonight."  
  
She nods. My ginger hair is falling over her shoulder and her brown is over mine.  
  
"Hermione," I breath.  
  
My Hermione. 


End file.
